Destroying Alfred
by SpeakingThroughWrittenWords
Summary: Prequel to Discovering Ludwig. This is the war. This is what happened to the Nations when terrorists took over. This is the story about how America and Germany found themselves as the evil. This how they lost everything. #6
1. Land Of The Free

_Warning: Utilizes both country and Human names. I will use accents wherever I bloody want, so either deal with it or please understand I am not going to change this because you are unhappy. _Please_ be understanding and just do not read it if my decision to expand on my writing upsets you._

_This story actually involves a higher concentration of Humans interacting with Nations. This will be a long and complex plot that hopefully I will not loose you in. Do not read if you want a fluffy or happy ending. Though I suppose you can read far enough for a somewhat humourous and fluffy beginning. If you want, I will give out a warning when the changeover comes.

* * *

_

**Land Of The Free**

"Alfred-san... are you even up?"

Alfred groaned, pulling his pillow over his face. Typical Kiku, just waltzing into his house to wake him up on a weekend. It took him a few moments to realize that no, that was not typical of Japan. That was typical of _him_ waking up _Kiku_ on a weekend. Or weekday. Waltzing into his house or not. Which made him wonder why Kiku was here.

"Whu...?" he asked, pulling the pillow off his face. Kiku looked down at him, seeming slightly amused. The Japanese man suddenly yanked on the blankets, pulling them off the bed. Alfred grasped at air blankly before hugging himself for warmth. "That's just cruel," he sniffed. Then, with a flash of insight, he grabbed Kiku and pulled him on top of him.

"Alfred!" Kiku protested as Alfred cuddled into him.

"You're warm... your fault..."

"You forgot completely about the meeting, didn't you?" Kiku sighed. Alfred sat up.

"Shit. There's a meeting today."

"Oh." Kiku sat still on the bed as Alfred ran around the room, finding his clothes. "Is there, Alfred? Thank you for reminding me. I would have forgotten without–"

"Oh, stuff it!" Alfred threw the blankets back on the bed, completely concealing Kiku from view as they fell on top of him. "Where're those shoes Jenny said I should wear?"

"She picked out your shoes?" Kiku asked, pulling the coverlet off of him and sliding off the bed. Alfred peeked his head out of the closet, just in case he had left them out somewhere else.

"Well, yeah."

"I am beginning to believe that your President's job is less strenuous than I previously believed."

"You kidding? Do you have any idea how difficult shoe shopping is?" That finally managed to get the other Nation laughing. Alfred grinned, coming out of the closet with the aforementioned shoes in hand. "You stress yourself out every time you are putting together a _cosplay _outfit."

Kiku stopped laughing almost instantly. "When you are finished," he said, making his way to the door.

"_Aw,_ Kiku... Kiku!" Alfred called after, but Kiku had already left the room. Alfred groaned.

Really now? He had just woken up.

From one perspective things were not much different than they used to be. Before the Red and Blue war he found himself going to these meetings, but dreading them. Before the war he would see Japan, by going to his house and bothering the other Nation. In a friendly way, of course. Before the war he was a Nation and now he was still a Nation.

That was what most people would see. Nations saw things differently, they encompassed much.

He had a new President. Who was awesome. Of course almost anyone would be better than the last one who deliberately started a war with Russia. To be able to trust his leader once more was such a relief, America would do anything to keep it that way.

People saw his brother. Alfred had never thought about it before because Matthew had always just been Matthew to him. He could be an ass, even though people often blamed him instead. It was the only reason that Alfred had agreed to letting him spend any time with Russia.

Plus, every Nation had voted against America having anything more to do with Russia (_oh, thank God finally it is all over_–). He really should have killed the bastard while he had the chance (_no, they used to be friends, he did not want that, he just wanted it all to be gone_–). He really should have–

No, no. He was not supposed to think like that. Alfred sighed.

What was the meeting for? Had he been given the run through? Probably. Damn, he probably should not have been bothering Canada so much as of late. It was distracting him from doing his work. Of course, he had to pretend he knew what was going on, because Japan was likely to have a coronary or something if he admitted he had not bothered to figure out what the meeting was about. Hopefully he could get Jennifer to give him a heads up when they got there...

"Ready?" Japan asked him as he came down the stairs.

America frowned. "Breakfast?"

"It's not my fault you did not wake up on time. We are going to be late." Alfred stared at Kiku, giving the most pitiful look he could muster without loosing his awesomeness. Kiku's lips twitched upwards. "Though I suppose we could stop at one of your fast food places for something."

"McDonald's it is!" Alfred cheered, turning Kiku around and making him lead the way out.

There was his relationship with Japan. Kiku, as the other Nation finally was allowing him to call him. It was strange to think that only a few years ago they were 'friends' in the only sort of way America was allowed to have friends. Breaking _him_ out of his shell, which was really ironic considering how often Japan seemed to be all holed up in his house by himself in his lifetime.

Not that he would admit any of this. Again. He had already thanked him. And now they were moving on with what they had now.

"Let's take the bike!" Alfred suggested, pulling Kiku in that direction.

"Actually, I would rather–"

"I'll drive! And I still have your helmet." He pulled out the white helmet, much too small for his own head, and stuck it on top of Japan. Japan's hands came up to either side of his head and America turned around once more to grab his own helmet, jamming it on and straddling the bike. "Com'on!"

"You are intolerable."

"But you _love_ me!"

Japan huffed where he was standing for a few moments before giving in. Like America knew he wanted to. The engine roared to life and within moments Japan was clinging to his waist and they were tearing down the road.

"_**Speed limit!"**_

"_**What?"**_

"_**You are over the speed limit, America!"**_

"_**Can't hear you~!"**_

For all Alfred could tell, Kiku was now just grumbling in Japanese, arms wrapped tight around him. Maybe a little _too_ tight.

"_**Can you loosen up your grip?"**_

"_**No."**_

The fact that Kiku's hair could not settle down after he took his helmet off sent Alfred into giggling fits. Kiku glared at him, but Alfred could not stop himself and Kiku could not keep up his anger forever.

"Cheeseburger?"

"...yes. Thank you."

Despite Japan's worry, the two of them arrived on time. Certainly they were not pristine pressed like they should have been, but America had always been open when it came to appearance. At least, to himself and in the company of other Nations. It seemed more real that way. They _did_ represent everything that was happening, after all. None of them should ever look perfect.

None of them should ever look fake.

The day was normal, meeting aside. Meetings were relatively normal. Japan kept fidgeting in the seat next to him.

"You okay?"

"Yes," Japan whispered back, elbowing him in order to make him stay quiet. America decided to ignore the message.

"Then why are you so twitchy?" he asked, poking Japan in return.

"This will tie us closer together," Kiku said quietly, fingers running across the table in front of him. "Almost... as if we were to be married."

Alfred stared at him. All of the sudden, it just seemed obvious.

"America... what are you doing?" President Clarkson hissed at him. He looked over at her with a sheepish grin, hoping that Japan would not hear him.

"Just filling myself in on what's going on?"

"You didn't read the...?" Jennifer cut herself off, then rose her hand to her mouth to cover the smile which appeared on her face almost instantly. "Well? You understand now?"

America looked at everyone who was there. Everyone who was looking toward them, waiting... Japan was right, maybe he should keep a bit more informed up and to date with everything.

"Yeah. I understand."

It was because he understood that he was the last one there, everyone else having left, Kiku waiting for him at the door. "Alfred? Are you all right?" Alfred did not answer. "Alfred?" He walked over, looking up at him quizzically.

"Will you marry me?"

Kiku blanched, staring at him with wide eyes. "Nan... what?"

Alfred smiled, dropping to his knees without any further thought. "Let me rephrase this. I'll go through all that paperwork I like to avoid, but... just for right now, because of everything, because of us, let me just ask you now for the sake of asking you. If I asked you to marry me, would you say yes?"

Kiku was blushing so much that Alfred was beginning to wonder whether the rest of his body had enough blood to function.

"Between you and me, Kiku. Between America and Japan. If _I_ asked..."

"I..." Kiku cleared his throat, staring over Alfred's shoulder. "I should think... _if_ you asked... I would say yes."

"Okay. Thanks."

"No problem."

Alfred hugged him, the impromptu action which he should have seen coming in his mind for a long time sinking in. Oh, he would ask. He would ask with a ring and flowers and all that other stuff that people should have when proposing.

"You sure you'd say yes?"

"I said I would, Alfred."

"Oh... just making certain you hadn't changed your mind."

"I... might _change_ my mind?"

"Well, you do tend to... Kiku? Why are you mad?"

The world had changed. The world was always changing. Alfred loved that and he loved being a part of it.

It meant the world to him.

* * *

_Silly me, I have started writing something which has another back story I will not yet tell. One day I might write the prequels to this as well... I give myself too much to do. Dear lord, but I do like creating worlds far too much. Hopefully this means I am improving in communicating the aspects of an entire world._

_There will be no official update for this, despite or maybe because of how epic I am hoping it will be. I promise whenever I write a chapter for this I will put it up. Love you all._


	2. The World Keeps Turning

**The World Keeps Turning**

Ever since the terrorist threat had been diminished, since Korea had left, things had been like this. Germany sat at his desk, working at his computer, picking up his cell phone when it rang.

"Hallo?"

"Germany, it's me."

"America. Vhat is it dat you need?"

"Just information. How is he?"

The question Germany knew was coming. The one he always dreading knowing he would have to answer, as in order to respond to it he had to make certain he was always going down into that basement. Always checking on the prisoner of whom he wished he never had to see again. Was it because of what he had done? Or was it because he did not want to think the once-Nation capable of such things? That conversation he had with Korea about brothers...

"Quiet. Vanting to repent, but knows dere is no vay for him to do so. Can you ask for anything else?"

Ludwig just wanted to go to sleep. Sleep and hope that everything would be better when he woke up. The back of his mind ached, the warning of the cold which was slowly dawning in his body. The terrorists were gone, the Nation locked away, but now Germany was suffering from new effects

"Yeah, I could. If he wanted to repent so much, why did he join league in with a bunch of fucking terrorists?"

America's words were harsh, but probably because he had not seen it coming. No one had seen this coming, from _him_ nevertheless. America had been used to fight Russia. Russia had been used to fight America and whoever else who was suddenly blaming everything on him. Switzerland had been used as a conduit of Austria, who's boss and leader of the organization wanted to siphon all of the funds so as to create their own country.

Create their own country. Become a Nation.

"He vanted to be a Nation again."

His brother, once known as Prussia, once the symbol of the Teutonic knights, had simply wanted to become a part of the world again.

"He vas tired of being a part of me dat never did anything. I vas de outlet of Germanic experiences... he vas nothing. He vanted it back."

The question was: could they blame him? Could they blame him for not wanting to die, for wanting to become part of the world once more? For all what Germany was, he knew he had to. For what Prussia had done to him. For what Prussia had done to America, Russia, Switzerland, Austria. For what he had almost made Germany do to Italy.

Alfred stayed quiet for a few moments, the words affecting him as much as Ludwig had expected. "But he hasn't said anything about Feuerstein?"

Ludwig's headache roared within his skull. "No. He says he doesn't remember anymore." He wanted to believe him. He really just wanted to believe that his brother had nothing more to offer, that he knew nothing else about those people and that he was never going to do anything like that again.

"Oh."

"I vill call you if he says anything... anything of importance."

"And I'll keep in contact. Thanks Germany."

"It's nothing."

"One more thing... Do you think Kiku would like to wait until spring for a marriage proposal, or in knowing that it's coming would he want it to be as soon as possible?"

Ludwig choked on air as his tongue worked around to come up with any and all responses which could even be possible in being appropriate to such a question. "Vha–?"

"Not as _soon_ as possible, but not waiting an entire season for it. You know what I'm saying."

"No. No I don't. Are you saying you're going to ask him to marry you?"

"Uh, yeah. Because it's Kiku, he's either going to make a big deal out of it or try to make it really small... but I guess we'll find out, right?"

He could not think of how to respond. Japan... his friend Kiku... married? To America? Germany was still uncertain of what he thought of their relationship (both sides had their own issues that he was not certain the other would not make worse) and now marriage?

"Ah..."

"What's that song?"

Germany sighed. Italy had left his phone here and now it was ringing. Well, not ringing. Not with the song that Italy had decided to be his ring tone. It had been a long time since he had thought much about the song.

"It is _Grün sind alle meine Kleider_... a children's song."

"Huh... I like it. Anyway, I have to rush off and get some stuff done. Talk to you later!"

The phone line clicked and Germany found himself staring at his cell phone. He found himself staring for a while. Either his head hurt too much, or he was simply too tired to be able to process what he had just heard.

"Germany! It's lunchtime! You _promised_ you would be done now!"

He managed to look up in time to catch Feliciano right before the shorter Nation tackled him for a hug. "Italy! I said lunch vould be at twelve!"

"It's close enough!" Feliciano said, burying his head into Ludwig's chest.

"It is ten thirty."

"But _Germany_~" Feliciano protested as Germany pulled him off of him, setting the Italian on his feet next to his chair. North Italy, who seemed incapable of standing without support, slumped back over Ludwig's lap. "I... _guess_ I should give Romano back his cell phone. I used it to find mine!" He smiled at his ingenious plan, reaching over to grab his own cell phone and shove it into his breast pocket. "You have to come with me!"

"I have vork to do."

"You can do it after lunch!" Feliciano now was leaning backwards, the only thing keeping him from falling on to his back was his grip on Ludwig's arm. "You broke your promise for yesterday! And the day before! You _owe_ me, Germany! Please~"

The words felt like they were crawling out of his throat, but they needed to be said.

"After I finish dese files, Italy. _Only_ after I finish."

Feliciano's smile was gone. He crumpled up to sit at Germany's feet, leaning back against him as Germany resumed his work.

* * *

Russia did not like the feeling of bullet wounds, but recovering from said wounds were usually no big deal. Recovering from the single bullet which had been methodically delivered into his skull had been a problem as of late.

Sometimes he could not think. Occasionally he would be wracked with fits of pain of which he was only aware of for so long before he would pass out. He had gone from powerful to weak in a matter of years. He had gone from wanting to take care of the world to having certain aspects of the world take care of him. Russia was not certain if he minded or not. Half of the time it made him so angry to have to be watched as though he were a child, or a criminal. The other half of the time, he was happy.

People were _here_.

Out of the three Nations which had been assigned to him he was happy with two of them. One, of course, being Lithuania. Russia liked keeping his distance, however. Why had Toris come back? Russia was not stupid, he knew that Lithuania had no reason to. But he had and Ivan was grateful. It was one familiar thing to cling to in all of this chaos.

The other was Canada. Strange, that. He had not thought about the other Nation at all, but for that one time he had struck him instead of America. He had not meant to hit someone other than America. America could take his blows. And so, as it appeared, could Canada.

Russia liked Canada. Canada was not stupid, like his brother. Canada was powerful, he just did not flaunt it. Perhaps, maybe more than anything (at least, right now) the fact that Canada was willing to deal with all of the ups and downs of his current condition that warmed him up to the fact that America's brother was not as bad as could have been thought.

Still, while making friends with Canada was nice, Russia's boss wanted someone with a bit more say.

"Vhat do you mean?" Russia asked in confusion.

"I mean ve need expanding relations," the man responded. "Not just vith zose Nations forced vith babysitting us!"

Which meant Sweden was out of the question. Then again, Russia did not like Sweden. Sweden did not like Russia. Still, as one of the foremost neutral power in the world, if Sweden wanted to put his foot in something, he would do it.

This left Ivan with a duty to go out and make a friend who was not supposed to be watching over him. He went through all of his choices and picked one of whom he thought he would be able to stand.

Plus, the distance away from his little sister would do him good.

* * *

America knew very well that he would mess up a proposal on his own. It was not as if he had ever done one before and all he had to go by were his movies. As great as those movies were, it was much easier to know the outcome when you got to see both sides of the story. He was stuck in his perspective, however, and therefore did not want to screw it up.

Plus Japan often said that his movies were funny or stupid and that really was not what America was aiming for. Therefore, he was going to ask for help.

Though America was double thinking who he had gone to ask for help as soon as he rang the doorbell. It was smart to talk to someone who had known Japan well too, or at least had been friends with him. It was smart to talk to someone who would not be too overprotective about this (like China would be, which was why America had not gone to talk to him). It was also smart to talk to someone who had gone through the marriage process a few times and had paid attention when bosses had gone through the process as well.

America was not so sure that it was smart to talk to England though. Still, England had been his first idea and then there he was.

"America?" England frowned after opening his door. "...you couldn't even think to call beforehand?"

"It's important," America managed, pushing past England and into the house and to the sitting room.

"Important as in American importance, or the rest of the world importance? Because I was busy cleaning, if you don't mind," England scowled at him. Then again, England scowled at most everybody. America believed it was part of his default expression.

"And man, do you need it! I was going to ask if you collected dust or something. Y'know, one of your hobbies–" America cut off his words as he turned to see England's furious expression. "Seriously, though... I needed to ask you for some advice."

England was the master of mood swings, but America was constantly surprised how fast the other Nation could switch over. "Advice?" England asked cautiously.

America sat down in England's armchair. It was not new or anything, but the years of wear and tear had done it good. He would rather like to take the chair home with him, except that would admit he liked it. "How best do you like having someone propose to you?" Okay, he probably could have phrased that better. England went red in an instant. "Theoretically! I was just wondering – I was first going to ask you how you'd propose to someone, but then I realized that it being you and all everything was much more likely that they proposed to you–"

"_What_ is your point?" England growled, hand clenching around sponge. America thought quickly.

"How... do you think... Kiku would like someone... proposing to him?" he asked tentatively.

England stared.

America stared back.

"Say that again?"

"Uh... sure. How do you think Kiku would like someone proposing to him?"

England stared at him for a little longer before going over and sitting down on the couch. "What have you told your President?"

"I haven't." America blinked. "Not because I'm being stupid – Japan's the one who said that the treaties we have just signed were almost like we were getting married."

England's head fell into his hands. "Oh?"

"Yeah, so I figured it would be best to reflect that. Y'know, like we do. Are you okay?" England took in a deep breath instead of responding. America took that to meaning England was still breathing and therefore alive. "I've never done this before. I would've asked France–"

"France?" England glared at him, but America waved the protest down.

"I know, right? He is more into the relationship scene, but not permanently. Yours might not have worked out, but that isn't for lack of trying."

Damn it. He said the wrong thing again. He was not exactly certain what, but England looked furious.

"Then. Why. Don't. You. Ask. Austria?" England bit his words off precisely. "He's. Been. Married. Way. More. Than. I."

America was saved from responding as the doorbell rang. Hoping that England would steam off his anger, he rose to his feet. "I'll get that for you!"

"America, you twat, don't you have any–"

He missed whatever else it was that England was shouting at him, in lieu of opening the door and staring in the face of the exact person he was not allowed to see by himself.

_Shit. Oh shit._

"Hallo, _America_," Russia said, voice very low and fists very clenched. America swallowed. Yes, he had won the war, yes. That did not mean he wanted to start another one. He played Jennifer's words back through his head so as to keep himself from saying anything really stupid.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Because, believe it or not, that was not the worst thing America could have said.

"I believe, whatever that may be, he would be taking that up with me, thank you very much," England interrupted their staring contest as he pushed America out of the door. "How may I help you?" he questioned Russia.

America tried not to seethe as he glanced over. At least the Russian looked confused. But what did he want with England? Where was Canada? Lithuania? Sweden? Did they really think Russia was ready to be going places by himself? Not that it was any of his business. America reminded himself that a few times. It was not any of his business... unless Russia tried something shifty.

"Vant being friends?" the largest Nation said nervously.

America stared.

So did England.

"Come in," England opened the door wider. Wider for that stupid, _fat_ Russian!

Not that he was as fat as he used to be, but that was besides the point. "Ah, hell no!" America rejected the idea. "_England!_"

"What?" England rose an eyebrow. "This is my house. And because you both aren't allowed to be alone together (_you both still are like children_) _you_ will go and get the tea while _I_ talk with Russia."

America would have tried to protest more, except he knew that this was England's way of venting out at however he had managed to make him mad right before the other Nation showed up. He thought about just leaving and talking to Austria, but he really did not want to talk to Austria about marriage (as the man simply seemed to stumble into them, let alone if he talked to Austria sooner or later Hungary would find out and that would sort of end up creepy) and he really thought England would have been happy with him asking for advice, America ended up stalking off to the kitchen.

Just to get back at them, he would make coffee. Coffee was better anyway. Russia liked coffee more than tea, stupid England. Well, Russia liked vodka more than anything, but if he recalled Matthew saying, he was trying to keep the other sober. Alfred could only imagine all of the fits that caused an already mentally unbalanced Russia.

He also made a face at some of the scones probably left over from this morning. How had England managed to convince himself that this was good? The scream he heard from the other room was an echo of the scream his stomache had at the thought of trying to digest it.

Which was when he realized that one: there was a scream from the other room, and two: it was not England, but Russia the one who made the noise.

Nevertheless America was concerned and he rushed back out. "What's happenin'?"

"She _followed_ me!" Russia exclaimed in horror, hiding behind the couch. "Followed! Zat's not right!"

As that did not make any sense, America looked over toward England, who was peering out of the blinds.

"I believe Belarus just went around to the back," England commented, his voice slightly perturbed. America groaned.

"This _again_?" Belarus was such a nice Nation when the subject matter had nothing to do with Russia. Then again, that was hard to get from her nowadays.

"It is rather tiresome," England agreed. Russia glared at the both of them.

"I live life like zis! Don't make fun!"

America had to agree with that. Natalia following Ivan all of the time could not have helped with his mental state. England sighed, then straightened up.

"If you will both excuse me, I am going to talk to her for a moment. _Stay_ in the kitchen, Alfred."

"Talk to her? Are you insane?" Russia hissed, looking alarmed.

"Yeah, she'll probably think you're trying to steal Russia from her, or something!" The thought made America die a little inside. It was disgusting, really.

"Nonsense," England sniffed. "Just stay apart. Both of you." And with that, England left the room.

America and Russia stared at each other for a few minutes before both of them following after England. America took the lead, because he was a leader! Well, there was also the fact that he knew the house better and knew where he was going, but that was not the fact he decided to focus on.

What they walked in on, however, took any and all focus anyone could have ever had and threw it out the window.

When he walked in, America was certain he had seen Belarus standing there. But then she was not. Then there was some light which lingered for a few moments and when it faded she was gone. Well, _she_ was gone. Her clothes were a pile on the ground.

"What did you do?" America gaped, trying to think of words to say.

"I decided I was ready to see a change in the east." England shrugged. The clothes shuffled.

"You turn her into frog?" Russia asked. America rolled his eyes.

"That is the stupidest thing you have ever said."

A small head popped out of the fabric. Russia squeaked and America found his jaw open once more.

"Jesus Christ! What the hell did you just do England?" The words finally managed to tumble out of his mouth.

"Magic, not that you'd believe it," England glowered at him.

"Uh... no," America rose a finger up. "What we do is just a sum up of a collective people and government. So when did the United Kingdom just do to the Belarusians?"

England was seething, but America suddenly realized the Nation was also swaying. "Typical! It happens right in front of your face and you still don't... accept the fact... I can..."

England passed out and everything went quiet.

Alfred looked over at Ivan, who stared back with the same confusion he had on earlier.

"So..." America started, looking back over at England and Belarus.

"_Da_," Russia nodded.

"брат?"

* * *

_Yes, Germany's accent is _not _as strong in this chapter as it was in 'Discovering'. I have reasons as to why (some of which were tapped upon in reviews there), but I will not say all yet._

_I wondered whether I should say this or not, but I feel in this story it makes a might more of a difference than it did for the other two, so I will put this here. On the subject of names: Ludwig/Germany, Alfred/America, so on..._

_The Nation name is used when the action or the words are more inclined toward the current situation in the government, with the people, aka, with their National actions. The Humanoid names, however, are used when their actions and/or words lean more toward their own personal goals for their singular self. That does not reflect as to the name they say. It is second nature to Nations just to call each other by their country name. It is a reflection of other barriers lowered to say a Humanoid name. With America, that sort of thing slips. With Germany, he does his best to never say such things. Italy follows his example because of constant reminder to do so._

_In 'Discovering Ludwig' and 'Recovering Francis' I did differently, slowly filtering the names from being the Nations into ending up as the Human names by the last chapter, to display recovery in their singular self, as well as for the entire Nation after all of the events which will occur in this story. If that makes any sense. If not, throw a brick at me and tell me to stop thinking too deeply into this._

_Showing up asking to be friends is really weird to me, but that was how England ended up being friends with Japan (after Germany rejected him, if I remember correctly), so I figured it would be perfect for this situation as well._

_And shrinking people is cannon. Me's reads it. Hell, I remade Germany in the sequel, so I cannot think this is worse than that._


	3. And Turning

**And Turning**

It was strange having time to himself. Finland found himself constantly waiting for interruptions which never came. For so long he was used to his neighbor coming over, so much so he almost did not mind anymore.

But Sweden was not here. Finland was not finding him in his house, he was not finding him to the West. He would receive phone calls from the Russian line and barely be able to make Berwald out. Tino had waited for this freedom for a while, but now that he had it he missed his friend. It had been so long since he had been without him... was he just not used to it?

_Don't be silly_, Finland reminded himself. _You are just fine. Missing a friend is just fine_.

"When is papa coming back?" Peter swung his legs back and forth from where he was sitting on the counter. He was watching him for Berwald, because he did not want to take the boy with him. For obvious reasons. Tino continued to put away the dishes and picked the Micro Nation up and set him on the floor.

"Five o'clock, I told you," Tino reminded him gently. From the corner of his eye he could see Peter puff his cheeks and Tino hid his smile by ducking his head.

"It'll be the first time in a month! Why don'tcha sound more excited?"

Tino thought about it. There were plenty of reasons, right? "Maybe when you have lived as long as I have, you'll understand a month really is not that long."

"So time means less now?"

Tino frowned, looking down at Peter thoughtfully. "No... that's not right. It is just you learn to accept some things and not waste your time worrying about things that have to be."

Sealand did not seem to believe it. "Right..."

Finland went back to work.

* * *

England groaned.

"England! Hey! You're awake!"

That was not the sound of a voice England wanted to hear. He still felt dizzy and the back of his head hurt from where he was certain it had collided with the ground. Because of all of this, England decided not to open his eyes, just in case that would make America speak again. _Let him think I just passed out again... just let him think..._

Then England remembered what had happened to make him pass out. Not only that, but it would have meant that he had passed out and left America and Russia alone in a room together. Certainly neither of them were originally at fault for the war which occurred between them, but the hatred which rose up again because of it certainly was. Not only were the both of them here, Belarus was here as well. This had to have been the stupidest time to pass out for... why did he pass out again?

"Where's Belarus?" England coughed as he sat up (someone had moved him to the couch), glancing about. He saw Belarus almost instantly. And so stared at where she was.

"She's almost adorable," America grinned down at the child in his arms. He had found some of England's old clothes for him and had fit her into them. _Natalia_ was wearing _Alfred's_ old clothes. England almost wanted to die, more at the fact that America went through his things, _knew_ where they were and that England had even kept them, and had easily given them to Belarus. "Yeah, and I think Russia's raiding your kitchen. The mix of both me and Belarus in the same room must have been too much for him, so he schmoozed off."

England hated that word. America had not even used it correctly, which was making England a little sorry for it. "Schmooze means to idly chat with... talking, not to slink off."

"Slank!" America snapped his fingers together. Belarus did not seem very phased as she glanced over at America's fingers.

The Briton decided not to argue about this, mentally declaring it pointless.

"So... England. England. _England_." America repeated his name several different ways, as if trying to get his point across without actually having to say anything. England glared at him, not that he expected it to work, and surprisingly got the point.

"What am I going to do with Belarus?"

"Exactly! Wow, you're psychic!"

Pushing back the feelings of hunger, caused by the impromptu usage of his magic, England rose up to his feet, staring over at Belarus. It did not take her long to stare right back. Even in looking like she was six or seven years old, she was a bit creepy. And rather quiet. "I... I think I had something in mind."

"You _think_?" America repeated, a snort escaping him. England put out his arms and, after a moment of consideration, America handed her over. Despite the fact England had the thought she might bite, he cradled her in his arms and stared down at her large, unblinking, eyes. "You can't think about keeping her! Well... actually, you could. You do like kids and all. Yeah." America nodded, as if he had decided on something.

England was rather certain America almost would not mind because he would rather England do this then try strengthening his relationship with Russia. Which England was just not going to take. "I'm not raising her, I don't have the time."

America frowned. "So... you turned her into a kid, made her incapable of being able to fend for herself, and you aren't going to take responsibility?" After saying that, he laughed. "Really? And you're always hounding me about that stuff! Ha!"

Ignoring that, England thought about what he had done. Even though it was Belarus, he wanted to keep her. Why? Because. Because now, after America, Canada, Hong Kong... after those children he really thought he could do better. At the same time, he knew he should not, he could not. The time was passed his ability to be able to take care of a child.

Yet, there was a certain duo who came to his thoughts of which the same could not be said of.

"I know where I am going to put her. Someplace which will be good for them as much as it will be good for her."

"Huh?" America asked, but England was rather finished talking to him. America wanted advice about asking Japan to marry him? England did not know what to think about that. He also did not know who he would be worried for. That on top of this was simply too much for England to want to deal with right now.

"Can you come back later America?" he asked quietly, hoping America would not argue too much.

"Uh... you sure you can handle everything?"

"Of course I can!" England announced. Belarus tried to get out of his arms, but he simply shifted how he was holding on to her. "Go America! You want my advice, give me a few days to think it over and I'll get back to you."

"Your advice...?" America blinked. It took him ten seconds, but he finally remembered what it was that he was here for in the first place. "Oh! Yeah! Right, that. 'Kay, I'll talk to you on Monday then?"

"Yes, yes," England nodded, head gesturing toward the door. "Goodbye America."

America head toward the door, but (as it was too good to be true) he stopped and turned around again. "You sure you can handle Russia? I mean, you could probably scare him out with Belarus, but–"

"**Goodbye**, America."

America stared at either him or Belarus one last time before he finally left the premises. With a sigh, England looked down at the child in his arms. Natalia looked up at him.

"Actually, I don't know why I never thought of this earlier," he told her. He knew why though, before this really had not been his problem. What transpired between her and Ivan was not a big deal to England... most of the time. Still, even he could tire of watching such events from a distance.

She did not respond.

England moved toward the kitchen, where America had said Russia had gone to. Deciding scaring the Russian while in his house would be a bad idea for the quality of his belongings, he knocked on the door frame before sticking his head in.

"Russia?"

"Is it gone?"

England narrowed his eyes. Really, that had to be his first question. Belarus seemed to have perked up at the sound of her brother's voice though and that really was creepy to England. "I have her. I am taking her somewhere else, where she'll be taken care of. When is the next time you can come over?"

Russia finally showed himself from around the corner, looking at him with a mixture of confusion, fear, and surprise on his face. "Vould... Monday vork?"

Monday? Wait, Alfred was coming back then. "Tuesday would really be better for me."

"I vill talk vith Matthew... surely he'll let me come zen."

"Call if you can't make it then."

"Zanks, England."

"Thank you."

After England was certain Russia had left his house, he locked it up and with Belarus headed East. She threw one fit when Russia left, causing Russia to practically sprint for it, but after that she was quiet once more.

Not that it made up for it. That single fit was a nightmare. She had bitten him too, England glowered down at his bleeding finger. It made him almost want to think twice about inflicting her on anyone else. Then again...

It took a few hours to arrive at the house. Belarus had thrown another fit when he had kept her from the flight which would have taken her to Moscow and England was rather tired once more by the end of it all. He had gotten her some chips and eventually she quietened down once more to feast on them. Feast on them? Well, England thought it as he saw it.

_Just don't let that little brat open the door. Just don't let–_

"Hey! Jerk England!"

_Damn it._ England stared down at Sealand, shifting Belarus in his arms once more. He was afraid to put her down, just in case she would try and run away or get lost or the like, but by now his arms were starting to hurt. "Is Finland here?"

"Why would I tell ya anythin'?" Sealand demanded, puffing up his chest as if that made him look bigger or something. England stepped inside, reminding himself to apologize to Finland for intruding. _The door was just opened, I don't know why... _"Hey! You're not listening! Who're ya carrin'? Hey!"

"Finland?" England called, glancing around the house. "Finland!"

"England?" Finland walked into the room, setting down a basket which seemed to be filled with shirts too big for him. England was not going to ask. "Can I help you with something? Peter, stop bothering him."

"But he just barged in!" Sealand pouted. Finland looked at him and Sealand seemed to deflate. Staring at the floor for a moment, he looked over to the basket. "Is that papa's shirts?" Arthur winced at the mutilation of the English language. "I'll iron them!"

"Peter–" Finland started, but the boy had already gone over, picked them up, and ran out of the room. He stopped at the doorway to stick his tongue out at England.

"Brat!" Arthur gritted his teeth. With a laugh, Peter left. Finland seemed about to say something, but stopped.

"Is... is that Belarus?"

Belarus glowered at him and England turned her face away. He rather hoped she looked adorable or something, but knew better. So he told Finland what had happened.

"Will you take her?"

Tino looked honestly surprised.

* * *

America had asked to marry him. No, that was not correct. Alfred had asked if he could ask to marry him. It was a simple enough question, one which should not have had any say on his previous feelings, or make him blush or giggle at the oddest of times, no that was very silly of him. It was a question which should not have had him waiting for it.

Alfred _was_ going to ask him to marry him, was he not?

Kiku wondered whether he was reading too much into this. He was never quite certain what to make of America. The other was his friend, to be certain, and Japan loved him (that he could no longer deny), but he still found himself completely confused around the other at times. Still, he was not certain whether he did the same to America, as America acted so out of the way about all of it... therefore he had reiterated how much the other Nation did not make sense. It was a cycle to think about.

"Kiku!"

Japan nearly screamed, hair standing on end as he gripped at his chest, America's sudden entrance through his kitchen window (again) scaring him nearly to death. He almost thought of reminding America he was too old for things like that, but America never seemed to listen to that excuse. Still. "Alfred! Don't... What did I say about my windows?" Japan managed to take in a deep breath, re-oxygenating all of the blood cells which had lost oxygen in those few seconds.

"You won't believe what I just saw happen!" Alfred continued, despite Kiku's words. Kiku sighed, shutting his eyes.

_I do not suppose it is a proposal, Alfred?_ "What would that be?"

"I went to see England, right? And Russia showed up, but–"

"Russia?" Alfred was not going to bypass this conversation. Not after everything. America waved it off anyway.

"I was with England, it was alright. At least, until Belarus showed up and freaked him out. Russia, that is."

Japan considered the situation. "Why was Russia there in the first place?"

"Wanted to ask England to be his friend or something." America was, quite obviously, pouting. Not only was it ridiculous that he try and hog England like that, his face was absolutely adorable. Kiku tried to remember what they were talking about, but was too busy hoping America's face would not change. "Idiot Brit seemed to want to go along with it."

No matter what, Kiku was not going to move. He fought against his smile, but was loosing quite quickly. "Yes?"

Opening his mouth to say whatever had come to mind next, America paused, staring at him. "Why are you about to laugh?"

"About to laugh?" Japan asked, eyes wide in confusion. "What ever do you mean?"

"Don't 'what ever do you mean' me! You're laughing at me!"

"I am not!" Kiku announced. "This is not laughter! You... you are just adorable!"

Alfred's facial expression faltered. "I thought we talked about this! I'm not cute!" The more he denied it, the more adorable it was. Kiku just could not stand it.

"_かわいい__!_"

"No! _Kawaii nai_, or whatever! No!"

Kiku clung to him anyway. Alfred was pouting again and it would probably stay there for a while, which he was plenty happy for. It was enough time for Kiku to get it out of his system and recall the fact they had been just in a conversation. "Eh... sorry. I interrupted you..." He tried to pull back, but by this point Alfred's arms were flung carelessly around him and he was not about to let go.

"It's nothin' too interesting. England just shrunk Belarus."

Japan blinked. "What?"

"Yeah, that was my reaction! She's like this tall now," America let one of his arms loose so when he leaned over he could mark about how high she was. "Like... one of your chibi things. You would have been all over her."

Regaining his composure, he pulled back from the other with a frown. "What is that supposed to mean?" America stared at him with a bit of surprise.

"Cute child! You're all grandmother over small cute children."

"'All... _grandmother'_?" he deadpanned.

"Y'know..." Alfred started, as if it was supposed to make sense if he thought about it for a little longer. "Like how parents are about their children's children. They're not in charge anymore, so they feel like spoiling the kids. Ergo, everything about them is perfect."

Kiku was lost somewhere within the explanation. "How am I like that?"

Alfred hesitated. "I forgot."

This was a usual conversation with Alfred. They never stayed on subject, they often forgot what it was they were talking about in the first place, and yet neither of them really cared. Japan used to try to, but now he found himself accepting this as the normal and simply trying to diverge whatever the current topic of conversation was back on to what was trying to be discussed.

"Alfred–"

Alfred kissed him and as angry as he wanted to be for being interrupted... well, he did not want to be angry, actually. "What... brought that on?"

"You always think that I have to have a reason for doing what I do," Alfred smirked. "Why can't I just be kissing you?"

_Because we _were_ talking about something_.

Not that Kiku minded.

* * *

He had been the one to volunteer himself. He had felt it necessary to go. He had wanted to watch for himself the situation in Russia to make certain that nothing was going wrong. After the war Sweden and Finland had managed to end, he did not want there to be another one.

But Berwald missed Tino.

It was like someone had removed a piece of him and had sent it away, untraceable to all, and without a return address. Sweden managed to stay his ground, do as he had decided, be what he had told himself he was going to be... but only because he had told himself ahead of time that was what was going to happen. Only because Finland said it was such a good thing he was going to be doing, even if it was for Russia.

He had committed those words to memory.

"_You're such a good person, Su-san. I'll miss you."_

"T'no."

No one would have believed how quickly Sweden managed to return home. Finland's home, anyway. It was his home, or as good as. Better than his own house – for it had Finland in it. Easily, he found the key he had made for himself (though the key to his own house had been lost months ago) and unlocked the front door. It was only five, someone would be home.

"Papa! You'll still love me more than her, right?"

Berwald looked at Peter and thought about it. There was no _'her'_ he believed to even be in competition. So he nodded. Peter looked rather relieved.

"Dinner's just about ready, but Finland's sort've got his hands full..."

With the knowledge that his wife needed help, Sweden headed straight to the kitchen. He saw the back of Tino and so hugged him.

"M' w'fe."

"Ah! Su-san!" Tino squeaked, stiffening up and then relaxing into his grip. "You sneaked up on me! Don't be so unexpected."

"I'm hungry!" Peter announced.

"Table," Berwald told him before he could touch anything. Peter stared into the pot with a strange expression on his face, before sighing and doing as he was told.

"...someday I want some real food..."

"No!"

The third voice Berwald heard was not one he was used to. Glancing about, his eyes landed on one of the kitchen chairs, where something was sitting.

"Sweden... I can explain!" Finland pulled away from his grip and went over to the chair. Sweden looked for a few more moments before realizing just who he thought he was seeing. Belarus. Though he was pretty certain the last time he had seen her she had been taller then that.

Berwald blinked.

"You see... England accidentally turned her into this while trying to protect Russia from her," Tino began explaining quickly. Berwald, of course, simply listened. "He said he really could not care for her though and asked if we... um, if I would do it. I'm still considering, I mean, that's a lot to ask for, but I figured she could stay here for a little bit until we figure out where she should stay!"

Tino really did not need to explain. Berwald knew exactly what Tino was saying.

Tino had gotten them another kid.

Berwald had never been so happy in his life.

"...Su-san?"

Berwald hugged him, which Tino stiffened in, then relaxed. "I don't quite understand what that means, Sweden... but I guess you're not upset?"

"No!" Natalia screamed again as she tried to get off the chair. Berwald turned his head so he had her in his view. She stared at him.

He stared back. "N'."

A small squeak escaped her and she hid her face into Tino's side. "What...? Oh, um... it's okay! B-Belarus–"

"Nat'lia." Tino looked back up at him. Berwald considered the situation. "D'n't call her th't. Call her Nat'lia."

"N... Natalia." Tino said. For a while he stayed quiet. "Does this mean you want to keep her?"

Berwald hugged him again.

* * *

_America fails at Japanese. If I recall correctly, it should have been '_かわいいではない_' if he really wanted to protest. He knows some things, just not enough to respond quickly and in these situations. (Lately I discovered how to actually make my computer write hiragana (I know I fail at computers) and therefore I feel a bit more confident putting more of the Japanese I learned into things. Hooray!)_

_There will be a lot more between Sweden, Finland, Sealand, and Belarus in another one of the stories I have planned about this. '_Raising Natalia'_. It will probably be the story I write after this one._


	4. As Warm As Ice

**As Warm As Ice**

For some reason the song just stuck in his head. He looked it up so as to actually hear the entire thing, hoping that would help. He did not mind as much as he thought he would that it did not go away. Which was why he found himself in the office, still quietly singing the song.

"_Blau, blau, blau sind alle meine Kleider~_"

"You seem to be in a good mood, America," Jenny commented as she wheeled herself around her desk. America grinned and shrugged.

"Why not? It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" He waved at the window. She rose an eyebrow at him.

"What song was that?"

"Song?" he questioned before he recalled what he had been doing. "Oh, song! It's some German children's song I heard while on the phone with Germany. '_Sind alle meine Kleider'_ or something like that. I think it means 'the colour of my clothes'."

"Huh... I rather like it," she commented as she reached the light she had wanted turned on and turned it on. Despite her newfound disability, President Jennifer Clarkson did not ask for any more special treatment than all of her staff gave her in the first place. America thought it hilarious, how she would sneak around the simple things she wanted doing just so she could get it done before anyone asked to help her.

"You can't help it," America retorted as he lounged in what used to be the chair Jenny would sit in while in the Oval Office. "_I_ rather like it, so that means a lot of people rather like it."

"Stop being such a smart ass."

"But it's such a big part of my constitution!" America pretended to whine. Jenny rolled her eyes, smile on her face.

"Enough about that... You have been hiding something from me, America."

"Hiding?" America frowned. "I'd be sure to know if I was doing something like that."

"You haven't mentioned what you've been doing with Japan recently!"

Now his frown had turned into an actual frown. Not that it was not his President's job to know what was going on with her country, but never had one been so... avid in knowing all of the details. If he did not know any better, he would have compared her to Hungary. Except he did know her better. Not that it made it less embarrassing. "You know... the normal stuff."

"Really now?" she asked, leaning back in her wheelchair. "Come on, if that were the case I would be having to give you some more _'jobs'_ at the baseball field."

America flushed. _That_ was a little much. "Erm... well... I thought I was going to... I mean, I'm planning on..."

"Yes?"

"I'm going to ask him to marry me."

There was something different about admitting it to England as opposed to his President. Something different about declaring something to another Nation as opposed to a Human being. America was not quite certain how to describe it to himself. It felt as if it were off the records, despite who it was he was admitting this too.

Jenny smiled. "About time too. Am I going to be invited to the wedding, or are the two of you going to have it as private as you can manage?"

How come she could always surprise him? "Uh..." America scratched the back of his head. "I don't know. I guess we'll discuss it after I ask him."

"Of course, of course," she nodded, moving herself back behind her desk, though still turned out toward him. "I hope he says yes, Alfred."

Alfred grinned at her. "Of course he will. I already asked that if I asked would he say yes and he said yes! It was like asking without putting all of my hopes on the line."

"I don't think so," she sighed, shaking her heard. Then she started to laugh. "Oh, you are so silly! All I have to say is I hope this happens while I'm still in office–" America opened his mouth but she spoke on. "Don't you start, I know that you have a different perception of time. But I did get you both together, I want to see those rings on your hands before I kick it."

"Don't talk like that," America pouted.

"You're right, my legs don't work. So I can't kick anything."

"Don't talk about dying!" America revised his words, shouting them at her with irritation. "Do you realize how much I _hate_ that?" He may have had to deal with it for a long time now, but it did not mean he was used to it. It did not mean he liked it. Jenny's smile left her face.

"I'm sorry." The both of them stayed quiet for a little while. "You realize that it makes my mortality easier to face, knowing how long you have survived? My Nation."

Alfred's shoulders fell as he looked back over to her. In a few steps he knelt down in front of her, taking her hand and pressing his lips to the back of it. "My President. Y'know... it doesn't matter to me that you are another in a long line that have come before you. Each one I have had... you all mean something special to me. You mean everything to me."

Jenny leaned her head into her hand, elbow propped on the armrest of her wheelchair. "Don't let Japan hear you say that."

America pulled a face as she began to laugh. "Aw, he'd understand. It's a Nation thing. I think."

"And it's not just because I got you new glasses?"

America rose his eyebrows. "You are my glasses. Remember?"

"Right," she nodded, eyes bright. "Back to speaking about Nations however, have you called your brother recently?" He stood up and she rolled herself forward into her desk. "Just asking because I think I have a meeting soon with his reps."

"I was _just_ about to do that," America pointed out, pulling out his cell phone and hitting speed dial as he walked out of the room. He gave her a wave and she waved back as he walked around the corner and out of sight.

Surprisingly, the phone was picked up before it rang more than a couple times. The snow storms had either calmed down or Canada and the others had finally gone back to Moscow. "Hello?"

"Hey Canada! What's up?"

"America? Oh, not much, eh. What about you?"

"Not much? You can't say that! You're in Russia!"

"I heard that you both were at England's house, when you both were explicitly told you aren't allowed around each other."

"Allowed without someone else around! Hey, did Russia even tell you about what it was that England did? He turned Belarus into–"

"I heard, eh. Russia has been singing England praises ever since then."

"Ew."

"It has nothing to do with you, so shut your mouth!"

Ever since the war, Canada had been a lot more pushy. America frowned, even though the other could not see it from the other side of the line. "What, am I not allowed to be concerned that Russia's taking an interest in him? Am I not allowed to be concerned that my brother and my friend are stuck babysitting the guy who tried to kill me?"

"The entire Nation you nearly killed, you mean?"

America could not respond to that. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Ever since he had wondered why he had not finished him, regretted it, and yet... Yet there were plenty of times when America wondered how he could have done any of that to Ivan. It seemed so _wrong_. But he had nearly done it.

"I'm sorry, America. I didn't... I know you didn't know what was going on then, eh. I know you were mad at what happened to me."

"Damn straight," America sniffed. His brother's irritation had never really stung like this before.

"Are you crying?"

"No!"

"Ah! I didn't mean to make you cry, eh!"

"I'm not crying!"

"Then stop sounding like you are!"

"I will!"

"Good!"

America frowned tapping at the wall with his pointer finger and looking down at all of his people moving about in the White House entrance. "So... you're doing okay?"

"I already answered that, eh."

"How's Lithuania doing?"

"Same."

"Can I talk to him?"

"On my phone?"

"Well, I'm already talking to you and he should be around, right?"

"Listen Al," Canada sighed, right before he cut himself off. "Eh! I have to call you later, something's come up."

"What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, eh! Just something is going on! I'm busy! Bye!"

America pulled the phone away from his head as Canada hung up. Staring at it thoughtfully, he placed the phone back into his pocket. He would call later, he supposed. It was not as if he did not have other things he needed to be doing. Like checking in to see if that ring he ordered was finished.

* * *

Hanging up, Canada stuffed his phone out of sight and ran as fast as he could in the snow to where he had heard Lithuania shout. Just as he had feared, Lithuania was waving him toward Russia, who had just collapsed.

Again.

"Get his head out of the snow!" Canada shouted down the hill as he continued to run toward them. He watched as Lithuania did so, the best he could, to get the larger Nation as much out of the snow as he physically could. Nearly stumbling, Canada got to his side and helped him lift Russia a bit more. This was so much easier when Sweden was here. Despite that they had to get Russia back inside.

They were lucky the relapses were nowhere near as common as they used to be. It was one of the first things Canada had been frightened about when Russia said he had seen America at England's house. But nothing had happened. It was all right. At least it was as all right as it possibly could be considering everything.

"Can... can you get his arm?"

"Oh! Right! Sorry, eh."

"It's okay!" Lithuania laughed nervously. No where near as nervous as he used to be though. The same thing was the case with Canada. Funny how they had never noticed these similarities before.

Lithuania let go of Russia so that he could open the door. Then they shuffled him inside (Canada having to squeeze both himself and Russia through the door at the same time) and settled him down on the couch, removing his soaked coat and his boots. They left his scarf on, as Lithuania had always had to remind him and Sweden of. _"Never take it away from him. That scarf is really important to Mr. Russia."_

Which was when Sweden would remind him that he did not have to call Russia 'Mr.' and Lithuania would suddenly become embarrassed. Canada felt rather like he was missing something. Not the facts, he had those. Something more personal, something more understanding. The fact that Sweden knew and understood was slightly frustrating.

Oh, Canada had almost forgotten what it was like to be doing something and be noticed for it. He wondered if this was another part of history that he would be forgotten for doing. But no, he would not let that happen. He was no longer going to be the ghost on this planet.

All of the work they could do for now done, Canada and Lithuania were left to their own devices.

"...want to continue our chess match, eh?"

"I'll make some hot chocolate! I think it was your turn, Matthew."

Matthew nodded with a smile and returned to the room where their game was set up. The living room and the couch were still in sight, but here there was less worry of waking him up (when he had passed the forced unconsciousness and fell into slumber) with their talk.

"We ran out of whipped cream."

"Ugh. Put it on the list, eh. Russia will be devastated."

"Not as much as he would be if we ran out of marshmallows... but already done," Toris responded as he set down a mug in front of Matthew and sat down across from him. "Carrying Russia around is a lot more difficult without Sweden."

Matthew laughed, between a smile and a grimace at the truth of it. "We're just going to have to buck up to the job. Sweden has a month off, after all." To take care of stuff at home. They could not stay here and help all of the time, as much as Matthew wanted too. When he had put himself forward and demanded that he be the one to take care of Russia... he was not thinking of all of the repercussions, he hated to admit. "It's your move."

"Okay..." Toris hummed thoughtfully as he stared at the board. Matthew watched him with interest.

How was it, away from home on the other side of the world, taking care of a faltering Nation, he was happy here? How was it that he was making friends with people that he had little to do with up to this point? Not that he had had an awful lot to do with others, considering up until the last war most of them kept forgetting who he was...

"Is it any good?" Matthew was surprised out of his thoughts. Looking at Toris, Toris simply looked back at him. It suddenly occurred to him what Toris was talking about. He lifted up his mug and took a sip. Then he smiled.

"As always, eh."

* * *

It might have only been a day since he had last called Lithuania, but Poland found himself considering picking up the phone again. He stared at it for a long time, trying to get an answer from it. Maybe it would ring. Maybe Toris would call _him_.

Toris should call him! Feliks could not always be the one calling him! Sure, he was busy and all, but he could put aside enough time so as to call him, right? They talked yesterday, and the day before, but those were all times that Feliks called him! It would be totally different if it were the other way around. Then Toris would be the one asking what was going on _first_ and Feliks would talk, instead of Feliks trying to pry out information from Toris with all of the questions he could think of... it would be a nice change.

And then Feliks would not have to worry so much about him.

_That Canada better be taking care of you, Liet. And you should always keep Sweden between you and Russia. At all times._

Poland blinked. The phone was still quiet.

_Please?_

His lunch break was over though and Poland found himself having to go back to work. With an irritated sigh he jammed his cell phone back into his pocket. "Good for nothing..." he began to grumble, but did not say anything more about it. There were other things to do. Poland's life did not revolve around Lithuania.

He would call Toris tonight. Make sure everything was still okay.

Then he would stop worrying.

* * *

"Japan! Japan! Hey, wake up! It's Christmas! Kiku!"

His first thoughts were to silence whatever moron decided to be hollering this early in the morning, Christmas or not. Then Kiku found his thoughts turning to the fact that the call was coming from the window, which meant Alfred had actually not broken into his house. Which, in the end, meant that changing his locks had finally worked on the man.

It was surprising and a bit upsetting to think he had finally managed to keep Alfred out of the house. And those feelings were enough to make him pull himself out of bed to get himself dressed so as to go greet America at the front door.

When he opened the door, the reason for America's inability to break into his house was very clear. The large sack he was carrying (as though trying to replicate the tale of Old Saint Nick which many Nations seemed to think was true and at the same time Finland) barely made it through the door, but when it did Alfred dropped it so as to pick up Kiku and snog the hell out of him, much against his own protests.

"Ah! Alfred–_hn!_"

When Alfred finally stopped kissing him, he grinned at him. "Merry Christmas!"

Kiku stared at him, slightly dazed, slightly irritated, and slightly amused. "Your lips are cold."

"All of me's cold," Alfred pouted, not letting Kiku go. "Waiting for you to let me in all that time... and you changed your locks! I don't like this one, I can't get past it!"

"That is the point," Japan sighed as he was finally let down. "I am rather in the habit of people _not_ being able to break into my house."

"It's not _breaking_ in!" America protested. "It's... saving you the time of having to let me in!"

Japan decided that arguing against the illogic would be rather pointless and decided to not respond.

"Wait, Kiku! I want you to open your present now!"

"Can it not wait until after breakfast?" Kiku asked, turning back around to see a rather wide eyed look on Alfred's face. Which is when his attention went back to the bag. The entire thing was not his, was it? Alfred always made such a big deal out of Christmas, with presents that were too big for anyone's good, but that was absolutely ridiculous. Then again, if it was more than one present... If it was filled with packages of a normal size then there would be an awful lot of them. Which was also a bit unnerving. America's Christmas ideas were always...

Well, he was still trying to get the hang of them.

"Just the first one!" Alfred said, turning away from him and reaching into the sack. He pulled out a box, very small, and turned around to give it to him. Kiku walked back over to save the other Nation the trouble and then took it.

It was small and light. And immediately it struck him what it was.

_Ah! But I could be wrong. What if I am wrong? Then I will have gotten myself excited for nothing... Knowing Alfred it could be some strange knickknack he got at a gas station that he thought was '_awesome_'. No need to get excited over that._

Carefully he tore off the paper. He did not have to look at Alfred to know that the other was suddenly on one knee.

"Kiku, will you–"

"はい!"

"–marry... wait, I didn't–"

Kiku tackled him and interrupted him for a second time. Usually that would have bothered him, but at the moment, Kiku just could not be bothered to be bothered. He was too happy.

Half of it was because of the ring and the other half was relief because it was actually the ring instead of something else. He had a feeling the rest of the bag was filled with rather random stuff. But none of that really mattered anymore.

"I... that was a yes, wasn't it?"

"Alfred?"

"Y-yes?"

"You are so very silly," Kiku said right before kissing him. After pulling away, Alfred looked quizzical.

"Only some of the time, right?"

He laughed and it did not take Alfred very long to laugh along with him.

* * *

_I know. Alfred's perfect moment is surprising someone first thing in the morning and then having them open up a present on a day when they would be opening up presents anyway. Alfred is weird._

_It is my belief that each Nation cannot help but have a fondness for every single one of their leaders, whether they were good or bad at the time or how history looks back upon them now. I believe that gives them all a very twisted outlook on their own past, present, and future. As if everything did not already give them a twisted outlook on themselves.  
_

_Thanking DF for this idea, but instead of America's glasses representing Texas, what if they represented his President? What the President stands for, and therefore what the majority of the United States has agreed toward for one person to even have the office, colours exactly what it is that America sees. Ergo, the President is America's glasses. I hope that no one is vehemently against me changing that detail which has already been established about a character. I plead 'creative license'.  
_

_The entire plot with Lithuania, Canada, Russia, and Poland will be in another story. I have the two beginning stories of this series already in mind, then the three stories which all happen within this time frame which will be slightly referred to in this story, but they all begin before the war, and they are mostly planned out. Amazing, right? Or insane, as I like to think of it as (because I have always thought myself as sane and then I continue to do things like this). I have a lot in my head (if you could not tell). I hope that I will actually be able to eventually write it all for you to read. Hopefully life will stay out of the way so I can finish it before I die. I think I have plenty of time.  
_

_And yes, I know I am sort of skipping through time. I am still hammering out which details are the most important to lay in front of this story, explaining where plenty of the important characters are, if it is different than people might think they may be. Things like that._

_By the way, I really love writing Canada and America on the phone/e-mailing/etc. each other. I think it is the whole sibling thing that does it. I doubt I am not the only one who thinks that is fun to write.  
_


	5. To Infinity

**To Infinity**

After the peace established at the end of the last war, the project had been started. A global project. One where every single Nation would contribute. It was no longer something to keep to themselves, this was something to belong to all of mankind.

Dreams of space travel. Actual space travel, with people, going further than their own atmosphere, to places maybe even further than the moon. England could not understand where all of the time possibly could have gone that they were now actually _working_ on this _together_.

At least, as together as they possibly could. It was easy to see who was taking control of the project. Japan and America, both too exuberant and bringing up ideas that sounded like they would be completely stupid, then bringing up information which established that doing so would be possible. Then, of course, America had to start the argument about sliding doors in space with Germany. After all, America had to have it as _Star Trek_ as possible.

This would have annoyed England, except for the fact he was so relieved that America was in any condition to argue about something so frivolous. America collapsed into his chair during break, which was an action most people probably saw coming.

"You should not have expended so much energy, Alfred," Japan said.

"I was not expending _so much_," America complained. "Just enough! I'm just sitting down so other people can do stuff!"

"Of course you are," Japan smiled, patting him on the shoulder. "I will get us lunch."

"Can you stop at–"

"Shh..." Japan tapped a finger against his lips. "Leave it to me."

These two were getting married. England did not know whether to cry or glare. After all, the sweetness was not going to last long, no matter if they remained on good terms. Tapping his pen against the table, England quickly stopped himself in lieu of jotting down something else in his notes.

"You've really bounced back quickly," he said non-committally, loud enough that perhaps America would hear it.

"Well, yeah," America responded, as though it were supposed to be obvious. "That's the power of–"

"Don't you dare." England did his best not to slam his pen down on the table, glaring over at him. "If you dare say something as stupid as it's because of _love_, you are dumber than I thought you were."

"Not dumb," America pointed at him. "Happier. There's a difference. Geeze, England, glad to see your optimism hard at work today."

"Why don't you take it from someone with a bit more life experience," England rolled his eyes. "This thing you call love? Temporary insanity."

"Uh... no," America responded, leaning back in his chair a little bit. "Japan's older than you. And _he_ believes in it."

_As long as Japan doesn't hear it_, England thought, slightly amused at the Asian countries' adversity against mentioning their age as being 'old'. "I wouldn't call Japan..." _Sane_, was the end of the sentence that England decided not to say. He really did not want to start up the sanity argument. Especially not with America. That was begging for trouble. "...as someone who really believes in it," England finished lamely.

"Someday, someone's going to declare that they're in love with you," America shrugged. "And you're going to have to call me when that happens, because I want to watch the hilarity of you trying to logic them into admitting that there's no such thing as _love_ to someone who loves you."

England rolled his eyes and went to go get some cof– tea, tea! He was going to get himself some tea. He was going to get himself anything which required him leaving here now and not continuing this rather silly conversation with America. Escaping the meeting room, he went down the hall to see if there was any tea left or whether he was going to end up having to drive out to someplace nearby.

If he left, all probability would say he would be late in returning. He did not really like driving around Finland's place.

"Tea, England?"

England rose an eyebrow at the proffered cup, but took it nevertheless. "What do you think, France?" he commented nonchalantly. "Will today offer any complete decisions that will not be argued about within twenty four hours?"

France chuckled. "Never. Thankfully we politicians have been rendered obsolete in part to this project or it would never be completed."

"It still might not," England reminded him. The tea was not half bad for having been made by a French frog. England sipped at it, slowly calming down from his previous conversation with America. "I've actually pinned a lot of my hopes on this project. If we can all keep our act together... a united front against whatever could be out there."

"_Oui_," France agreed, looking rather expectant. "For once things do not look hopeless in this regard. Though I do not expect us to ever stop fighting about the details."

Perhaps they would not. There was a reason there were so many different countries instead of just one of them that represented the Human race. "Do you ever think we could go?"

France glanced over at him oddly. "What do you mean?"

"Into space."

"My dear England, isn't that what we are talking about?"

"I didn't mean it like that," he scowled, glaring at the Frenchman before staring down into his cup of tea. "I meant us."

In his peripheral vision, England could see the other blink a few times before responding, obviously surprised at the prospect. "You think so?"

"That's my point. Can you imagine what it would be like beyond Earth's atmosphere? There has been some astronauts who have spoken about that... and stepping on another solar body? Can you imagine not being on Earth?"

There was his point. They were Nations and consisted of so many things – one of the most important which was the land they used to squabble over left and right. So many lines had been established for so long by this point. Their boundaries were no longer so temporary. Would it be physically possible to leave the planet they were so entangled in?

And, if they had the opportunity, would any of them actually do so?

"I don't think I could."

France nodded, agreeing without saying anything.

They were unlikely to think of this particular subject again for a long time and England was just fine with that. It did not bode well when they started thinking about things in any light other than as a country.

Which was why he knew the upcoming marriage would not last forever. Hopefully America and Japan would enjoy what they had while they had it.

* * *

There was something wrong.

Spain could not put his finger on it. He sat through the meeting, enjoying the company and the conversations, uncertain about certain subjects, concealing slight irritation when certain ideas were placed on the back burner.

"What's on your mind, _mon ami_?"

"Hm?" Spain hummed questioningly as he looked over at France. When he had replaced Belgium at his left he was not certain, but neither did he mind. "How I'm not following half of this~"

"Who is?" France chuckled, glancing around the table. "Can't hear it to even try for that much. You notice Vietnam? Doesn't she look so much better?"

Spain glanced over to her and had to agree with France. Not that he had seen much of her since her floods, but the fact she was not dripping anymore was an obvious statement as to how much she had recovered. The oddest thing about that was the fact she was sitting next to Korea and did not seem to care. The oddest part of that was Korea.

Which once again reminded Spain there was something wrong, but he still had no idea what.

"Did you go and tell her so?" he asked France. France laughed, shaking his head.

"Only if I want to be punched in the face. _Merci, mais non_. What's going on with you?"

If they were needed in the main discussion, someone would fill them in. It was with no reservation that Spain stopped paying attention to the rest of the room to focus in on his conversation with France. "Nothing newer than what I told you last time we spoke," he said, trying to remember the last time they spoke. "What all did we talk about then?"

"That was last Monday!" France crowed mockingly. "Already forgotten?"

Spain thought about it. "Yes," he replied. "What were we talking about?"

France opened his mouth to respond and did not say a word.

This was what was wrong. It was with France's blank expression that Spain remembered. Prussia. They were talking about Prussia. Historically speaking, it would not be a problem to remember these things. But they were talking about him _now_ and suddenly the memory would be gone.

They were forgetting about him, about how he should be here with them, making as much ruckus as he always had.

"Gilbert," Francis finally said, voice quiet as if someone else would react adversely if they heard that name being said. "We were talking about Gilbert."

A single question repeated in his head, as it had been for so long now. _How did I forget him?_ It seemed simply incredulous. How could they have forgotten?

"How many times have we been that desperate?" France asked, not seeming to expect an answer.

"Never _that_ desperate," Spain could not help but say. "Prussia's the only one who could ever pull off that much of it at one time."

That seemed to stagnate their conversation and turn France even more quiet.

"Are we going to remember saying this?" Spain questioned himself.

France did not answer and Antonio realized that he already did not know what he was asking about.

"What do you think of the new power plan~?" Spain asked cheerfully.

The Frenchman shrugged. "I think there could be a better option, but who listens to me anymore?"

Something felt wrong. France patted him on the shoulder as he went on to complain about Russia and then about Finland and Sweden.

Spain commented how he thought Belarus was adorable now, but something seemed wrong about saying that when he could not think of what was supposed to be so wrong.

Yet he could not remember.

* * *

This was the second instalment to their most recent favourite game and America was even more certain that the commander in there was yelling at them rather than their characters. But that would be strange because he was not talking about the fourth wall or anything, so he put those thoughts aside as they began to play.

"Kyoto."

"NYC!"

"Osaka."

"LA!"

"Chiba."

"Toronto."

Kiku stopped, almost about to look away from the screen at him, but did well to keep playing. "Toronto is your brother's city, not yours."

"I was just making sure you were still paying attention," Alfred replied, glad to be proven right.

Japan sighed. "All we do is shout places at each other."

"We aren't shouting," America frowned, keeping Japan's character from being consumed by a zombie. "Got your back."

"_I_ am not shouting," Japan revised his statement as they headed out of the bunker. "I simply think there should be a better way of solving our dilemma."

"Dilemma's a pretty harsh word for it."

"Then what would you call it?"

Alfred frowned. "Difference of opinion."

"Certainly it is that," his fiancé agreed, hitting another zombie with a table leg before it bit Alfred's character. "Where are the refugees?"

"They're supposed to be near the city square," he responded, reloading his weapon. "Though I guess I get what you mean by shouting. We've stopped trying to convince each other and now all we're doing is – to your left – repeating places at each other."

They could do what other Nations had done. They both already had their own homes. They could alternate between the two. But it was not like a hundred years ago. Spending half the year living in another country might make it seem like something was wrong. Not just to their people and government, but to themselves.

All of that notwithstanding, Alfred did not want to do that. Oh yeah, he loved his house. It was great. But he was starting something new and he wanted to build a new place to commemorate it. Build a house for the both of them. Which Japan had thought was an interesting idea, except for the fact neither of them could agree where the house should be.

And no matter how many times he told Japan that there did not seem like there would be enough room in his country to build anything, Japan would come back with a comment or another which was totally untrue. Japan could be a sore loser sometimes, though America supposed he had not really lost if he was being stubborn enough not to give in.

"I was wondering when you would realize that," Kiku said, small smile on his face. "I have lost track of the amount of times you have said Wichita."

"Less than Portland, right? And Osaka's like... every other suggestion from you! You're the one who– here're the masses!"

They paused in their conversation to try and kill a zombie horde. It was not long before both of their characters had been eaten and they found themselves being yelled at by the commander again.

"Is he yelling at us, or at _us_?" Alfred asked.

"You have already asked that, Alfred. Of course it is the characters." Despite saying so, Kiku looked slightly uncomfortable throughout the entire briefing. "Perhaps we should narrow down our own ideas, before suggesting them."

"I thought we both started out with our own ideas and it was the whole 'sharing of them' that got us suggesting every city in our homes."

"You will choose three and I will choose three," Japan said. "And from those six we will decide."

Well, it sounded good enough to Alfred. Not that he was likely to choose any of Kiku's choices, but part of him almost wanted Kiku to convince him.

It would be interesting.

* * *

All the invitations were sent out. Including the one to Korea that Japan had not wanted to give in the first place. Then again, there were several Nations Japan wished he could have missed inviting, but America had made it impossible to miss China, so he was left with the few he had taken from the list to address himself.

Though he did wonder why they did not send it as an e-mail, but Alfred had been insistent that there be paper wastage and Kiku had given in. The excuse had been that it would be more personal. America had an odd idea about what was personal and what was not. In fact, it seemed that he was always changing his mind about that too. Japan had let this one slide. It was something that would have been very important to himself too, once.

Actually, he might have been the one to suggest sending the invitations by post, but America was certainly the one to go insane over the idea.

Still, Vietnam had to have Korea invited as well and there was no way of telling her that the invitation had been lost in the mail or something like that. She had very quickly made him feel guilty though. Which did not make any sense. Simply because he wanted less to go wrong during his wedding he was the bad guy for not inviting Korea? It was a very uncomfortable situation that had been easily rectified by giving Vietnam Korea's invitation to be hand delivered to the other Nation in her house.

It was as if she had timed it to be right before his next visit to Germany. Italy had insisted he go over and talk some sense into the other about something (right before considering the intelligence of Japan's sense, Italy could be very insulting without knowing he was sometimes). Not that Japan needed an excuse to go visit Germany.

"Japan! Come in. How are you?"

"I am doing well, thank you," Japan replied as he walked inside. Right off the bat he could see what it was Feliciano had been so worried about.

Germany looked drawn, he looked tired. It was too soon after the recovery to expect him to be able to feel perfect, but the vision of him like this was disheartening to say the least. "I... got your invitation. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Japan said again, before he got another look at Germany's face. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, no!" Germany shook his head as they walked into the living room. "Noding is wrong! It vas just... Actually, I heard about it from America before I got your invitation."

"You did not mention it before," Japan commented as he sat down, a slight frown on his face. Unless America had only just mentioned it, but America was not the type of person to have kept it from anyone and Japan knew that he and Germany were keeping themselves updated on Prussia. Not that that was a subject Japan would dare broach with the German.

"Yes. Vell." Ludwig stood there awkwardly. "Vould you like something to drink?"

"No, I am fine."

It seemed against his will that Germany sat down across from him. "It's not any of my business, but..."

"Yes?" Japan asked, trying to prompt Germany beyond his hesitation. Germany cleared his throat.

"Are you sure about this?"

Japan blinked. "I am not thirsty, but thank you for asking."

"No!" Germany shook his head. "I didn't mean–! I meant about... getting married."

Oh. He should have known that was what his friend was talking about. "Of course I am."

"You tried to marry Italy once because he hugged you," Ludwig pointed out.

At one time he might have protested that and explained himself quite thoroughly. But the comparison to what happened with him and Feliciano with what was now happening with him and _Alfred_ was so ridiculous Kiku could not help but laugh.

"I am not marrying America because he hugged me!" he managed to say through his laughter, practically doubled over.

Germany tugged at his collar, looking uncomfortable. "I didn't mean dat!"

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Japan managed to calm himself down. "I know, Germany, I know. I am sorry."

"Don't be. I just didn't explain myself correctly."

Thankfully they changed subject. Germany was pleased Korea had gotten an invitation and Japan had to hide his guilt all over again. To think that Vietnam could hold that over his head! Yet Germany was so subtly proud of Korea. It was something Kiku had not seen of his friend in a long time.

Ludwig was worn, yet glad for another Nation's recovery.

Ludwig was faltering.

* * *

He was getting married.

He was married.

When Alfred thought about it, it was strange to think that one day it was a plan and the next day it was a promise that had been carried through. He and Japan were married on a warm summer's day and every Nation was there to witness it.

Sure England was grouchy. Sure Cuba kept yelling at him (or his brother, America could never tell). Sure China was actually using Hong Kong to hide behind. Sure Finland accidentally knocked over one of the punch bowls causing Cameroon to slip. Sure Italy kept talking to them as if they had forgotten they had _just _gotten married (it was the North's enthusiasm, Japan reminded him, as if America did not know what Italy was like). Sure Germany actually lost a drinking match to Ukraine (no one was likely to ever let him live that down). And sure Switzerland had not stayed beyond the reception.

America had never been so happy in his life.

Well, that was a lie. But he certainly was happy now. It was up there on the happiness meter. Not that he used metric or anything.

They ended up in Japan. Not that America had given in or anything. They were still coming up with a good agreement.

"Well then?"

Kiku gave him a sidelong look. "Yes?"

Alfred grinned.

And the two of them went out to watch some baseball.

* * *

_The age idea was not based off of Asian people, at least not as much as it is based off of the personalities of the Asian countries. Because it is funny to think that they can proclaim they have survived through so much and yet still be offended by someone calling them old. I think China would prefer it if others said he was 'well-lived'._


End file.
